


Talk it Out

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angry Happy, Dating, F/M, Fluff, Miscommunication, Oblivious Toby, post 2x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:23:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5821174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you buying?" Happy thought he was asking her out. And he wasn't. And she's annoyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talk it Out

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently follow up fics happen whether I want them to or not.

Happy throws her leg up to the bumper of the car and fixes her shoe, trying not to feel too disappointed. She lets herself be annoyed instead, because nobody annoys her like Toby goddamn Curtis.

“Hi,” he says, sunny and oblivious as he hauls the satellites over to the van. “Thanks for coming with. I can take them down, but I doubt I could put them back up again without a minor catastrophe.” He smiles at her. "Without your engineering, I am nothing but a fraud."

“Yep,” Happy says, and she’ll freeze him out until he realizes just how much of a dumbass he is.

She drives too recklessly and too quickly away from the garage, trying to contain the annoyance that is bleeding into rage, and by the time they reach Kovelski’s she’s half ready to throw shit.

“Okay, so I’m judging by the way you disregarded approximately eighteen traffic laws, you’re angry,” Toby says, his hands gripping the oh-shit handle until the knuckles are white. He slowly releases, like he's not sure if she's going to accelerate or not.

“Wow,” Happy says, throwing the car in park, “is that the kind of insight you get with all your fancy medical degrees?”

“Okay, me,” Toby says. “I’m the one in trouble. What’d I do?”

She stares at him. “Damn, you’re stupid.”

“Am not!” Toby argues, and when he sees her unbuckle and open the door, he practically gets himself tangled in the seat belt to scramble out. “What’d I do? Is it because I didn’t jump into the explosion tank? Because Walter had that covered. Paige needed a frontal lobe – she was going to jump in after him. As the resident psychiatrist, I figured I'd work well as a frontal lobe.” He stands so she can't run away. "Come on, talk to me."

Happy turns to him, and suddenly she realizes the rage is misdirected.

Happy's not angry. She’s embarrassed.

She won’t meet his eyes as she turns in the opposite direction and walks over to the back of the van. “Never mind,” she grumbles. “Just – get the satellites set up again so we can head out.”

“Hey, no way,” Toby says, and when she opens the back of the van he practically dives in. He sits in the back facing her, forcing her to look at him just by where he’s sitting. “We’ve done enough of this.”

“Enough of what?” Happy bites. “Talking? Agreed. You never shut up.”

“I don’t deny that,” Toby says gently. “But the whole communication thing. We need to get better at it.”

Happy looks at him. “Don’t you mean I do?”

“No,” Toby says. “Both of us. We can be regular assholes.”

Happy shrugs. “By product of childhood trauma,” she says, but she feels her defenses falling, because this is Toby, this is the guy who’s saved her life and whose life she’s saved over and over again.

But she misread a situation and took a risk, and it wasn’t what she had hoped for. It hurts more than she wants to admit.

Toby’s smiling at her so earnestly and so honestly that she’s beginning to wonder if he even knows what she’s talking about.

"You're going to laugh," she mumbles, because, god, she's stupid.

"Probably not," Toby says, and she believes him.

“I thought you were asking me out,” she finally mutters, kicking at the van’s tire.

Toby’s eyebrows shoot up. “When?” he asks. “I did?” He stares at her. "When?"

“Apparently not,” Happy clarifies.

Then it hits him. “Oh, god,” he says, gripping his hat. “Oh, god, you – when you asked if I was buying.”

Happy nods. “Yep. I misread that one.”

“No,” Toby says, shaking his head. “Oh, god, no, I misread it. You wanted me to ask you out?”

Happy shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “Apparently.”

“I hold the record for fuck ups,” he says, more to himself than to Happy. “This is the second time I’ve screwed up what was supposed to be a first date.” He looks at Happy again. “If I actually asked you out, would you say yes?”

Happy nods. “Take a wild guess, you dope. You haven’t been reading the vibes?” She shoves her hands in her pockets. "I don't like to touch people, let alone ask to be bunk mates."

“Hey, platonic spooning is a thing,” he insists.

“It’s not platonic when we made out for twenty minutes after we woke up!” Happy argues.

Toby considers it. “You got me there.”

“I figured you'd decided to make the first move, but no.” She looks at him. “Apparently I have to do all the work.”

He smiles sheepishly. “What if I asked you out now?”

“I don’t know,” Happy says, shrugging. “I’d probably say yes. Or no. You’d have to find out.”

He deflates. “That’s just mean.”

“You’re just oblivious.”

“You’re not wrong.”

She manages a smile. “You gonna ask?”

Toby clears his throat. “Do you want to, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, “do you want to go get dinner with me some time?”

“Are you buying?” Happy says, deliberately echoing her words from before.

“Yes,” Toby says and, god it feels good to have this play out the way she'd expected. “And I’ll even hold doors and all that sappy stuff.”

Happy smiles. “Hook up the satellites and we’ll see where the night goes.”

“Is that a yes?”

Happy considers it, because, briefly, she thinks she might just walk away and see what he’d do.

But they’ve danced around each other for months, years even, and she’s ready to hold still. Better yet, she's ready to dance with him.

Instead of words she kisses him, because she’s always spoken better with actions, and the way he settles his hands on her waist makes her melt a little bit.

“Just to be clear,” he says as she pulls away, “we’re going on a date. We’re dating.”

“Yeah,” Happy replies. “And we’re going out right after we set up the satellites so you don’t have time to fall asleep on me.”

“One time!” Toby shouts as Happy hauls the satellites out of the van and walks them to the diner. “That was one time.”

“You’re never living it down,” Happy calls back.

He runs up next to her. “For the rest of my life?” he asks, and there’s a glint in his eyes that makes her wonder if he knows what he’s asking.

“Probably,” Happy says. “Again. We’ll have to see where the night goes.”

Toby swings Happy’s bag at her feet as she begins the work on the satellites, and she can’t believe she’d forgotten it in the van. But there’s Toby as always. Has her back.

Toby grins at her, handing her a wrench before she even asks for it. “Deal.”


End file.
